


Agate

by Firefliesonalake



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Clone Wars era, F/M, Romance/Drama - Freeform, trapped by the enemy (no surprise there)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6754651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firefliesonalake/pseuds/Firefliesonalake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Female!Obi-wan/Anakin. AU. "And yet as she gazes at him, all closed eyelids and soft breathing, unguarded in slumber, her resolve wavers. For if they die tomorrow, nothing ever will come of it...For more than anything, she wants for Anakin to live". Four part one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pale Blue

** Agate **

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

 **A/N:** **Set during an AU clone wars wherein Anakin never married Padme, and Obi-wan is a woman who harbours feelings for him. In this AU they are captured and imprisoned by the enemy. this is the first chapter of a four part one-shot.**

* * *

**Pale Blue  
**

Obi-wan's not afraid to die. She's danced on the edge of death, and tempted fate innumerable times in her life, that this scenario has almost become second nature. After all Jedi risk their lives on a daily basis. This time should be no different. Jedi are taught to accept death as a natural part of the life cycle, a necessity to maintain balance in the flow of the universe. All things come to an end; nothing lasts forever. Jedi philosophy advocates for the celebration of death, with the knowledge, for those who pass into the void, are embraced by the Force. They merge to become one with the Force. Forever at peace. Forever free from the cares and suffering of the living.

Reminding herself of this core tenet of Jedi philosophy fails to bring any semblance of comfort. For as much as she tries to convince herself otherwise, Obi-wan is afraid of what is to come. Not for herself, but for her cell mate.

On the battlefield, death is more likely to be quicker. Blink and it's all over. But locked in a cell, stationary, and waiting for their execution, death is not so clear-cut. One has time to ponder the _finality_ of death.

A concept made all the more unbearable when a person's dearest friend occupies the same cell, and shares the same fate. It's ironic that after all she and Anakin have been through, it's only now that she acknowledges the one thing she's spent the last two years trying to deny.

She cannot abide the thought of any harm coming to him. She's always been aware of her attachment, and how it hinders her judgement where he's concerned. But it's never been so evident to her than right at this moment.

Somehow, somewhere along the line Anakin had become the most important person to her. Her priorities, her loyalties had irrevocably shifted to the young man chained to the wall beside her. And she had allowed it.

It seems like the galaxy itself has shifted. A dramatic analogy, but Obi-wan finds there's no other way to describe it. Anakin, impetuous, passionate and headstrong Anakin, has veered her right off course. Away from the Jedi Code to which she strives meticulously to uphold, and into the depths of whatever this... _feeling_ is.

It's not wholly unpleasant. Rather the opposite. It's an inexplicable sensation of falling and floating simultaneously. Her soul is feather light, and yet anchored down.

As she glimpses up at the sleeping form of Anakin beside her, just in arms reach, she equates his physical presence to gravity. She's rooted in place by Anakin who inspires these feelings inside her.

Obi-wan clasps her fingers together, and wishes her connection to the Force were not suppressed by the drugs administered to her by their captors. When she reaches out to the Force, her mind feels fuzzy, and the effort leaves a ringing in her ears. It's like what was once a beautiful painting of vibrant colours is now reduced to a blank canvas.

Abandoning her futile task, she focuses her attention on the massive sleeping form of Anakin. Their captors must have drugged him with a stronger dose. Perhaps they'd deemed him the greater threat.

In sleep Anakin does not look like a threat. The lines of his face are softened, making him appear younger. Anakin's head is tilted at an uncomfortable angle, and a stray sun-streaked curl has fallen over his closed eyes lids. She has the sudden inclination to brush the hair away from his forehead, and quickly stifles the urge.

Two barriers hinder her from doing so. Firstly the cuffs binding her wrists together, and secondly it's completely inappropriate. The fact that they may die tomorrow does not give one the excuse to engage in sentimentality.

They are both Jedi, their lives sworn to the order. To the greater galaxy at large. This...feeling is expressly forbidden. Nothing can ever come of it.

And yet as she gazes at him, all closed eyelids and soft breathing, unguarded in slumber, her resolve wavers. For if they die tomorrow, nothing ever _will_ come of it.

How she wishes she were alone in this cell.

For more than anything, she wants for Anakin to live.

* * *

She stirs awake at the lightest touch. Something gentle prods her mid-arm, bringing her out of the throes of sleep. Her eyes flutter open to see light streaming through a crack in the ceiling of the compact and dank cell. She blinks to deter the blurry spots distilling her vision. But ultimately it makes little difference. The cell offers poor illumination, and without the Force to enhance her night vision she's unable to see clearly. She can just make out basic shapes, and outlines. Her jailors must have turned out the lights while she was dosing.

Jedi ever immersed in the Force, subconsciously and instinctively use the Force to magnify their five senses. Amazing how reliant she's become on the Force. Obi-wan never quite knew the extent to which she took her abilities for granted. She ought to be more humble.

"Obi-wan," a deep and familiar voice rasps from her right. She turns her head in the direction of the sound, only to see the outline of a massive shadowy figure. There is a ruffling of clothing, as the figure shifts closer to her.

That's when it all comes back to her. "Anakin," she breathes.

"Are you all right?" he asks, concerned.

"Never better," she replies dryly. "And you?"

"I've been worse," Anakin says.

Obi-wan's lips curl downwards. "Yes well, that will all change if we don't find a way out of here," she remarks.

She can almost imagine Anakin's frown. "I'm open to ideas," he says.

Obi-wan looks down at the cuffed hands in her lap. "Unfortunately I am running short of those at the moment," she admits.

"And here I was hoping for some great escape plan. So what now?"

What now _indeed_? For once Obi-wan has no witty response or secondary plan. Maybe the Force had always provided those too, and she had been none the wiser.

"I don't know Anakin," she says simply.

Anakin does not answer, and it's too dark to read his facial expression. If only she could sense his Force presence. Another thing she has taken for granted.

"Anakin?"

She can see the large outline of his figure lean closer to her.

"You feel strange," he states.

Obi-wan lifts her chin. "Why thank you for your appraisal Anakin," she says curtly.

A sharp intake of breath indicates his annoyance. "I meant that you feel unusual in the Force. Your presence feels murky somehow," he retorts.

She jerks sharply, as her mind reels at the brevity of what Anakin's inadvertently divulged.

"What? You mean you can still use the Force?" she gapes.

"I...what you mean you can't?" Anakin asks, perplexed.

How can he still feel the Force? It must be his uncommonly high midichlorian count. There can be no other rational explanation. It's a testament to how truly powerful he really is, if a Force suppressing drug has no effect on him.

It frightens her. He can sense her, but she can't sense him. Her thoughts, her emotions...can all be laid bare, should he simply choose to reach out with the Force, and there's naught that she can do. Without the Force, she is unable to shield her mind.

_This is not good..._

"Obi-wan?" Worry underlies Anakin's tone, but she is too stunned to reply.

His shadowed figure inches closer to her again, and the chain binding him to the wall rattles loudly.

It's the clamour of the chain that brings her back to reality.

She clears her throat promptly. "No I can't feel it, They drugged us. Obviously it didn't have the intended effect on you," she informs Anakin.

"They _what_?" Anakin growls. Astonishing how easy Anakin is to read without the Force or any visual cue to suggest his emotions. His voice is enough. Honestly Anakin would make an appalling politician.

"It's to be expected, and it will wear off eventually," Obi-wan reasons. She doesn't add that it might be too late then. For her anyways. But she can accept her own mortality. It's Anakin who concerns her.

"When?" Anakin demands.

"Soon enough," she alludes.

"So you have no idea?"

"No more than you," she says mildly.

Anakin curses under his breath. Obi-wan does not reprimand him for his language as she usually would, her mind too preoccupied by other things. Like their impending execution scheduled for tomorrow morning.

At least there's now a small ray of hope. Anakin can use the Force to escape. On his own of course. She would only slow him down in her Force-blind state.

She jolts when she feels a hand clutch her right forearm. When she glances up she is greeted by the large shape of Anakin's figure. Obi-wan must have been deeper in thought than she realised.

"It will be alright Obi-wan, I promise I will find a way out of here," Anakin tries to reassure her.

 _I agree Anakin it will be alright, when you make your own escape_.

And then she could rest easy. Knowing that he would live.

"Obi-wan?"

"Yes?"

"What's wrong? I sense you're anxious," he probes.

"I'm fine," she evades.

"You're lying," Anakin points out.

Her hands tremble lightly, and she interlaces her fingers in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

"It's nothing to be concerned about," she tells him flatly.

"Obviously I _should_ be concerned about it, if it's something that's got you this worked up," Anakin shoots back.

"It's nothing Anakin," she says irritably.

_Please just let the matter go..._

Anakin's hand squeezes her forearm.

"Tell me Obi-wan. I can help," he says, his voice softer this time.

_You can help me by finding a way out for yourself Anakin..._

"Anakin..."

Force help her, she only desires for him to live...more than anything. Rules of attachment be damned.

_I don't won't you to die..._

The hand on her forearm tightens suddenly. "What did you just say?" Anakin's voice is sharp, and low.

Obi-wan recoils. Did she just say that _out loud_? For the first time since she's woken up she's glad that she can't see his facial expression.

"Wait! What do you mean, you don't want me to die?"

Obi-wan blanches. She _did_ say it. Oh... _blast it_.

The Force can't save her now. Not from her own stupidity.

* * *

**I hope to have part 2:Fire Red posted soon.**


	2. Fire Red

**Agate**

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

* * *

**Fire Red**

Ironic how the cell is meant to be cold, and yet Obi-wan feels warm. _Overtly_ warm. Her cheeks are flustered, as blood pumps adrenaline through her capillaries. Every baser sense seems heightened as she becomes hyper-aware of the precarious situation she's landed herself in, all by the grace of her big, unrestrained mouth.

The cell is spacious, and yet she feels cloistered as Anakin's large silhouette looms close to her taut form. Natural body heat emanates from him like a furnace. Forget warm. This cell is _stifling_.

Anakin's breathing is loud beside her, and she swears the veins in her wrist pulse, where he touches her bare skin. Blood rushes to ears as a cacophony of contradicting thoughts race through her mind.

Force...but it's like _fire_. Dangerous, all-consuming and completely irrational. And now she's too close to the flame.

Too close to Anakin.

For Anakin is that _fire_. A forbidden temptation. Devouring any sense of logic and burning through her Jedi reserve.

And a tiny, infinitesimal part of her doesn't quite object to being _burned_.

_Force have mercy! What am I thinking?_

Those Force suppressing drugs must be impacting upon her ability to think clearly. Maybe she's been too dependent on the Force for sanity because right now she's definitely not in the right frame of mind.

"Obi-wan?" Anakin's voice pierces the fog that has settled over her thoughts, as she's brought back to the present issue at hand. Defusing what can potentially transform into a disaster if she doesn't handle this matter carefully.

She turns her head to her right only to find Anakin's shadowed figure has shifted even closer.

"What did _you_ say?" he demands.

His hot breath stirs the stray strands of the hair have fallen into her face, and his heavy exhalation resounds within her ears, giving her the impression that his face is very _near_ to her own. Far too near for her liking.

Resisting the urge to shudder Obi-wan swiftly eases herself away from Anakin's vicinity, relying on her legs to push herself backwards. As she moves, her right leg brushes against his solid body and she jerks at the contact.

"Obi-wan what did you just say?" Anakin repeats. Even Force-blind, and lingering in almost perpetual darkness she is able to imagine his scowl. Funny how she instinctively knew. Then again Anakin has always been predictable like that, much to her chagrin. Anakin's lack of control over his temper has always been a sore point between them. But for once Obi-wan is grateful for Anakin's poor self-control. Bless Anakin and his short fuse. A temperamental Anakin she can handle.

"Never mind," she answers calmly. Obi-wan is careful to keep her face impassive well aware that Anakin's Force-enhanced night vision is no doubtlessly acute enough to detect any emotion projected onto her face. Any unduly reaction on her part and Anakin will latch onto it like a covetous Kowakian monkey lizard.

_And then he will never let the matter go_. Bearing that thought in mind, and utilising a Jedi breath control technique she tries to regulate her breathing and relax her muscles. She may not be connected to the Force for the moment, but she can still be mindful. One does not require Force sensitivity for emotional detachment.

Any perception of mindfulness goes flying out of the proverbial window as Anakin, chains rattling, undermines the distance she'd put between them by moving into her personal space, and swiftly grabbing her forearm between his bound hands.

"Obi-wan tell me," he urges, shaking her lightly.

"There's nothing to tell," she denies. Obi-wan's own bound hands fly up to prise his away from her arm, but Anakin only tightens his fingers around the ligament.

"Don't play coy with me Obi-wan! You know what you said," Anakin tells her shortly.

To her credit Obi-wan's voice remains steady. "Then why do you need me to repeat it?"

"Obi-wan!" Anakin barks. If she could sense the Force there was no doubt that she would be able to feel the anger simmering underneath the surface.

"Let me go Anakin," she ordered. Predictably Anakin does the opposite and squeezes her forearm.

"No!"

"Anakin!" she reprimands, squirming in a poor attempt to deter the obnoxious Jedi Knight.

"Not until I receive a straight answer," Anakin refuses adamantly.

Weariness sweeps over Obi-wan, as she realises the futility of their dispute. This battle of wills is getting nowhere. It certainly won't help them in escaping from this wretched cell.

"What do you want me to say Anakin?" she asks tiredly.

"The truth! I _felt_ it, you can't hide it from _me_ ," he states. The fingers clenching onto her fore-arm seem even tenser than before.

Obi-wan doesn't quite know how to respond to that. She can't exactly refute his comment, blatantly lying would only encourage Anakin to go off on another tangent and the Jedi Master hasn't forgotten how she's at a distinct disadvantage without her Force abilities. Of course he's sensed everything her unshielded mind has laid bare. Every blasted misguided and improper feeling she's had toward him.

If she's honest with herself keeping up this verbal sparring, and contest of wills is _exhausting_. Perhaps the time has come to burn bridges or so to speak. After all it doesn't seem like they're leaving this cell anytime soon. Not unless Anakin spurs into action, and frees himself.

Though she cannot make out his facial expression in the darkness, she's sure he's watching her carefully.

"Well then I suppose, if I can't I hide it as you imply, there's nothing more I can add," she tells him simply.

"Nothing more to add?! How much longer do you plan to sit there evading the subject!" Anakin, by the tone, and heightened volume of his voice sounds absolutely _livid_.

Obi-wan aptly cringes at his unequivocal use of the word feelings. He's hit the hydro-spanner on the cranium, she'll afford him that much. However it does not excuse his uncouth behaviour. Losing one's temper is never constructive, and considering their present locale, it's downright foolhardy.

"Anakin keep your voice down! Do you want the guards to hear?" she hisses. By this point Obi-wan has risen to her knees, and glares down through the darkness at Anakin's silhouette.

"Let them hear!" Anakin snaps carelessly.

"Listen to yourself! Anakin, stop acting like a blithering fool! This is neither the time nor the place to be discussing such obscene matters," Obi-wan reprimands. Hard to believe only a minute ago she had been perfectly composed.

"No! Obi-wan you listen to me for once, we will discuss this now," Anakin says hotly.

Obi-wan scoffs. "I would hardly call this a _discussion_ ," she retorts. A discussion implies a practical and rational interaction between people. They, on the other hand are engaged in an argument. Albeit a very petty and ineffectual argument, courtesy of Anakin's inability to let matters slide.

"I am sick of you avoiding the subject!" Anakin explodes. In a whirl of ruffled clothing and loud breathing, the incensed Jedi surges to his knees, his large silhouette blotting out the glare of the artificial lighting teeming through the small peephole of their cell door. The abrupt movement, and awkward positioning causing him to release his cuffed hands from her forearm.

"And I grow weary of this purposeless debate you seem so intent on dragging out!" she counters, lifting her chin.

"I know everything Obi-wan!" Anakin exclaims.

Obi-wan finds herself rendered speechless by his declaration. She's burnt the bridge alright...only to bring on the storm, and she's not completely confident that she can weather this one.

"You can't hide it from me. I sensed it. You have certain feelings toward me. _Strong_ feelings," Anakin's voice is softer, and she swears she can detect...Is that _wonderment_?

Anakin's shadowed figure looms closer, and she instinctively shuffles back on her knees, only for Anakin to follow her. His hands grasp hers, and she feels his warm breath against the shell of her ear.

"Very strong feelings," he murmurs.

She resists the urge to shudder. Forget fire, Anakin is a _storm_. A natural impetus of raw power and, dangerous velocity. Unpredictable and unrestrained. Hazardous, potent, and alluring.

Downright forbidden.

She's thought and said it many times but she's never believed it until now; he might very well be the death of her.

"Anakin," she whispers. Anakin's hands cup her face, and he uses his hold to tilt her face upwards. Anakin's warm breath passes over her face. _Force_ he's so close to her. The closest he's ever been. She inhales deeply, as the faint scent of spices fills her nostrils.

Before she can articulate anything else, Anakin's lips brush over her own. His lips are chapped, but moist. His thumb caresses her jaw line, slow and gentle, almost rhythmic in movement, and she inclines her head slightly in response to his touch. A strange, quivering sensation forms in the pit of her stomach, and shiver runs down to the nerve endings of her spine.

The sensation is foreign, but not unpleasantly so. Her eyes close and Anakin runs his tongue over her lips, which instinctively part. As his tongue slides into her mouth, her cuffed hands dart out, fumbling blindly toward Anakin's body. Her hands meet the fabric of Anakin's tunic, and her fingers entwine themselves in the layers of cloth.

The initial thought of pushing him away is lost to an uncoordinated mingling of breath, teeth and tongues. The kiss is neither sensual, nor tender. On the contrary its slippery, and graceless. She would go as far as to say that they are both rather inept and inexperienced with such things. And yet there is something inherently _natural_ about the whole affair.

Obi-wan grasps his tunic tighter, as her adrenal glands work themselves into overdrive leaving her with sweaty palms, a pounding heart and heavy breathing.

Chains rattle, as Anakin leans closer still, and she feels his kneeling legs bump against her own.

No, she thinks, their kiss is not skilful by any means, but it's _sincere_.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, alarm bells are ringing. What they are doing is blasphemous. It's nothing short of heresy.

But none of these thoughts register with the solidarity of Anakin's tunic underneath her hands, the unique sensation of his tongue inside her mouth, and nor where his large frame presses clumsily against her own as they engage in their wanton activity.

For right now her thoughts lie first and foremost with Anakin. _Only_ with Anakin.

The Force can't help her now. But in this moment, she doesn't want to be saved.

* * *

**hope to have Part 3: Moss Green posted soon!**


	3. Moss Green

**Agate**

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this

* * *

**Moss Green**

In the deepest, remotest part of Obi-wan's subconscious a war rages, the contention between a lifetime of Jedi teachings which espoused the principle of detachment from one's emotions, and her irreconcilable feelings concerning Anakin.

All the while, as the internal war rages, Obi-wan is distracted. She _allows_ herself to be distracted by a clumsily, earnest meeting of their mouths, and the unexpected baser urges it hallows within her.

And what a sordid, but glorious distraction it is.

Her cuffed hands, still wound in the fabric of Anakin's tunic, acting of their own accord, grasp the inlays and pull him closer. When his chest collides with her own, a muffled noise escapes his lips at her rapid gesture.

She's known such temptation before, once during her youth on an extended mission to Mandalore, she'd almost succumbed to it, but her sense of duty had prevailed. Now history seems poised to repeat itself. The Force has given her another test.

Another trial of the heart. The age-old, clichéd dispute between duty and desire.

Only this time instead of being torn over the poised, impassioned, staunch pacifistic young Duke of Mandalore, her sense of duty is compromised by Anakin. Her headstrong, fiery and brazen former apprentice and dearest friend.

Not to mention fellow _Jedi_.

Sobering instantly, Obi-wan's eye lids snap open.

_What am I doing?!_

Anakin, at that moment, breaks the kiss, and touches his forehead gently to hers. Deep breathing resounds off the cell walls, as both Jedi attempt to recover from their ill-conceived engagement in such a... _primal_ activity.

Obi-wan blames her body's faulty biochemistry. It is those pesky endorphins running through her system that has caused her to think in this sentimental manner. Yes... that sounds about right, an endorphin rush. Even Jedi are not exempt from the baser inclinations of their species from time to time. A perfectly conceivable and rational explanation. Trial of the heart her posterior.

Since when had she become so... _poetic_ ?

If she ever left the Jedi Order, perhaps she'd become a thespian, from this most recent entanglement, she deduces she has a certain dramatic flair for it.

Her inner monologue is disrupted, when Anakin chooses to break the silence.

"I _knew_ it," Anakin murmurs, his voice made husky by emotion, "You do have feelings for me".

Is it just her, or did he sound _happy_?

Force-blind, and cast in the perpetual darkness of this dank cell, Obi-wan is not entirely certain. Deprived of the luxury of her other senses, Obi-wan must rely on sound and touch alone. It's an undue lesson in humility; the Force definitely has a rather warped idea of timing.

So far she's relied on her intimate, personal knowledge of Anakin's personality to handle this...sticky situation, only to have the tactic result in an unprecedented and unanticipated outcome. Instead of resolving, or at least temporarily putting aside the issue, Anakin has blown everything completely out of proportion with his unpredictability.

"You have feelings for me," Anakin repeats, marvel underlying his tone.

Obi-wan, who is well acquainted with Anakin's less-than-savoury knack for catching her off guard, is surprised when his soft, rumbling laughter fills her ears. Fingers gently caress her jaw-line, causing her skin to tingle peculiarly, where he touches her with his flesh hand, while his other sturdy mechanical one cups her cheekbone.

"Obi-wan...this is...I can't believe...I never imagined you would...," Anakin trails off, too confounded to elaborate.

Obi-wan who has been quiet all this time, finds herself equally unable to articulate a full sentence. What does one say in a situation like this?

"Anakin..." she whispers. Every muscle in her body is tense, her palms are sweaty and her fingers, at this point entangled in Anakin's tunic, twitch uneasily. If she tries to initiate a conversation, who knows what further damage it could lead to.

Obi-wan likens her anticipation to a cliffs edge, one false move, and she will plunge over the side. Only in this metaphorical fall, she cannot see the bottom. She knows not how this will end, and it unnerves her to the core of her being.

Obi-wan can't abide it, this ignorance, and uncertainty. She's never wavered so much in her sense of duty until now, not to this extent.

And that's when she realises, Anakin has always been the exception and she's _permitted_ it.

Anakin removes his cuffed hands from her face, and they encompass her own as he prises them away from his chest. He does not release her hands, however, opting to interlink his fingers with hers and join their palms together.

His hands are strange contrasts against her skin; one is warm human flesh, and the other a smooth texture of glove, covering his mechanical appendage. Real and yet unreal. It serves an uncanny reminder of her internal struggle.

Anakin's breath settles over her face, his forehead still pressed to hers. "You know what this means don't you Obi-wan?"

No she doesn't. That was the problem here.

"You can't deny it...and neither can I," Anakin admits, his voice low and raspy.

Obi-wan's eyes widen slightly as she registers his meaning. Anakin's feelings are _mutual_. Initial joy at his admission, quickly gives way to alarm as the full brevity of what Anakin has said weighs upon her mind. Anakin's apparent mutual feelings, only add another layer of complexity. Another potential minefield to tread.

Without out a doubt, this is certainly a fine mess she's landed herself into. There's only one thing for it now, Obi-wan must put aside her apprehension and set the record straight, even if it means coming across as insensitive.

Obi-wan leans her head back, and retracts her bound hands. "Anakin, _No_ ," she says firmly.

"No?" he echoes.

She considers her words carefully. "We cannot partake in this inappropriate behaviour any longer," she states.

"Inappropriate? We've done nothing to be ashamed of!" Anakin refutes.

_Oh yes we have, Anakin, yes we have..._

"Anakin, we are Jedi," she tells him plainly. Anakin, being the headstrong person he is, ignores the obvious meaning of her statement.

"I know what you're trying to do here Obi-wan, it won't work. You can't avoid the subject. Not this time," he says adamantly. He squeezes her hands briefly, seeking to drive the message home.

She understands his message clearly enough. All cards are on the table, and Anakin no doubtlessly intends to take advantage of her Force-blind condition. Knowing him the way she does, she predicts that Anakin will try to manipulate the situation, in order to incite a verbal confession from her.

Unfortunately for Anakin, despite her unethical feelings towards him, she is still a Jedi Master, and comports herself as such. Duty comes first, a fact Anakin would do well to remember.

"I am not avoiding the subject, by all accounts we should not even be having this conversation," Obi-wan points out, ever the voice of reason.

She can just imagine Anakin's sour expression. "Stop that!" he snaps.

Obi-wan raises a brow. "Stop what?" she asks blandly.

"You know perfectly well what, stop playing games with me Obi-wan!" Anakin growls.

Obi-wan, tiring of this circus-show, feels her own ire beginning to rear its head. He thinks she playing some kind of game here? That's a rather hypocritical comment on his part, given he is the one exhibiting such childish behaviour.

"Anakin, I am not any playing games with you!" she says, keeping her voice level.

The highly-strung Jedi Knight curses underneath his breath. "That's a load of bantha poodo, and you know it!" Anakin snarls.

Obi-wan weary of this monotonous pattern of verbal sparring, snatches her hands away from Anakin's, and glares up at his shadowy figure.

"What do you want from me Anakin?" she demands.

"I want you to stop lying! To me and to yourself!" Anakin explodes.

Obi-wan, caught off balance by Anakin's heated, blatant remark, falls back onto her haunches, bracing her cuffed hands on her knees. She casts a glance to the cell door, squinting against the bright tinges of light streaming through the small peephole. It's a miracle that the guards haven't entered to see what all the commotion was about.

"Anakin this is not the time nor the place to be...," she begins, only to be interrupted by the Jedi Knight.

"Admit it!" he tells her sharply.

"Admit _what_ Anakin?" she queries, exasperated. Why couldn't he leave the matter be?

"Your feelings for me. Admit them! Say it, right here, right now," he urges.

Before she can reply, there is a swish of fabric, as the outline of Anakin's figure looms closer.

"Say it Obi-wan," Anakin says, his voice softer this time.

Obi-wan sighs. Trapped in a cell, scheduled for execution in the morning, and Anakin is still as obstinate as ever.

"Anakin, really this is completely...,"

"Say it!" Anakin presses.

Obi-wan intertwines her fingers together, considering her next words. She could continue trying to divert the subject, which admittedly has not worked very well so far, or she could throw all caution to the winds and disclose her unethical feelings. Neither option seems favourable.

But maybe a direct approach might be for the best. Anakin detests liars after all, and she's tired of this tedious dispute.

"I acknowledge that I have certain feelings toward you, I do hold a degree of...affection for you, more so beyond what is appropriate," she admits grudgingly.

Anakin exhales loudly. "I knew it Obi-wan, and I...,"

"You didn't let me finish!" she interrupts, "You were right, I do have feelings for you and I acknowledge them in order to let them go".

Silence, and darkness is her only answer.

* * *

**hope to have the fourth and final part up, "Deep Purple" soon!**


	4. Deep Purple

**Agate **

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this

 **A/N:** Fourth and final chapter

* * *

**Deep Purple**

There's a fine line between silence and tension.

Obi-wan is accustomed to silence. Comfortable with it even. But right now, she wishes Anakin would say _something_. Almost anything to break the suspenseful atmosphere between them.

She knows all too well, a quiet Anakin is never a good sign. Devoid of her sight, and Force sensitivity she is unable to read his body language, and yet she can tell Anakin's fuming underneath the surface.

She's no stranger to Anakin's moods, and while Anakin has many commendable traits, active listening is not one of them. He does not like to be told _no_. He loathes the word, and its meaning. She has long suspected it to be a consequence of his childhood spent in slavery to others.

In Anakin's mind to tell him no is to propose a challenge or insult him. Unfortunately modesty is another trait in which he lacks. No doubtlessly he has interpreted her declaration as a slight. One thing's for certain, Anakin will never accept the status quo. His pride _always_ gets in the way.

Kneeling, Obi-wan stares up at the outline of Anakin's huge silhouette, poised for another bout of inevitable verbal sparring that is sure to be forthcoming.

After several long minutes of uncomfortable silence, and long-suffering breaths Anakin finally speaks.

"You acknowledge your feelings for me..." he says, his voice hoarse and strained.

"In order to let them go," she finishes succinctly. Anakin does not respond at first, still digesting her words, and the deeper meaning behind them.

Let them go...she wants him to drop the matter entirely. Anakin understands her message well and clear, but she has no misgivings about his character. The young Jedi Knight will push the matter as far as he is able.

 _5, 4, 3, 2..._ She counts down the seconds, anticipating a heated reply. Anakin, predictably, most disappointingly proves her assumption correct.

"What?" Anakin hisses.

 _And here comes round two_.

Obi-wan, unfazed by the dangerous edge Anakin's voice has taken on merely repeats her previous statement. "I acknowledge my feelings in order to..."

"I know what it is that you said!" Anakin seethes. If she were able to view him fully in the light, she knew she would be privy to his taut figure, barely containing the anger pulsing through his system.

"Well then I see no reason to repeat myself," she says briskly.

Anakin lets out a frustrated bark of laughter. "You _can't_ be serious!"

Obi-wan feels her own indignation beginning to rise once more.

"I assure you I am completely serious," she asserts.

"Obi-wan!" Anakin growls.

"For all thats good Anakin! This is neither the time nor the place to be discussing such things! Let the matter go!" Obi-wan snaps.

She's not surprised by his display of arbitrary behaviour. Anakin, for all his intelligence, has never been able to see the bigger picture, the broader scope of things, like in this instance, arguing needlessly while a death sentence hangs over their heads.

Master Qui-Gon had always cautioned her about the dangers of foresight, and the importance of living in the present. But her dearest, and deceased former master, despite his immense wisdom, did not hold all the answers. Sometimes even the wisest of Jedi masters can be wrong, and dire circumstances call for desperate measures.

There's a stark difference between being mindful of the future and the sheer stupidity of ignoring the fact that one is marked for execution in the morning, which becomes more likely the longer they sit here and exchange barbs.

And she will be damned before she allows Anakin to be executed due to his own stubbornness.

"There you go again, always averting the subject!" Anakin accuses.

Were her hands unbound, Obi-wan would have raised a hand to her temple, in response to the head ache she feels steadily coming on. Instead she tightens her cuffed hands into fists, and clutches the fabric of her pants.

She breathes deeply, endeavouring to purge herself of the pointless vexation coursing through her being. The whimsical and improper anger which only Anakin seems to invoke. "Anakin, arguing for the sake of nothing will get us nowhere..."

"Don't preach to me Obi-wan, I sensed your feelings for me, you are no better than I am," Anakin fumes, cutting her off abruptly.

Chains rattle, as Anakin's shadowy silhouette looms closer, and Obi-wan unable to bear his righteous countenance looks away, to the trickle of light streaming through the peep hole of their cell door.

"I sensed it Obi-wan why do you keep denying it?" Anakin demands.

 _Because it's forbidden_ , lies on the tip of her tongue, but Obi-wan does not articulate the words, for they both know better. They have both taken a sacred vow to the Jedi Order. Attachment of any kind is forbidden.

"You know why," she says simply. _Please Anakin...Please just let it go...let me go..._

Compassion for life and the galaxy at large is acceptable. Essential even. But compassion for a singular person can only lead to a path of suffering and anguish.

Jedi do not indulge selfish whims. Jedi do not _love_.

With startling clarity, she realises now how far she has fallen from grace. She has broken that sacred vow a second time. She has tarnished the Jedi code, and proved herself a hypocrite to every ideal she once venerated.

For she is in _love_ with Anakin.

Her hands unclench, and she clasps them hands together, fingers intertwining as she gazes down at her lap. If only she could have a moments reprieve, to regain her bearings and some semblance of self-control. If only she had a chance to process everything, to make meaning of this... _heresy_.

Her intertwined fingers slacken their hold on each other, and Obi-wan realises she's trembling. She is overwhelmed by the cacophony of emotions rippling through her system. Shocked by having the foundation of her beliefs shaken to the core. Ashamed at her own self-indulgent weakness. And _terrified_.

Terrified that she might not be able to turn her back on love a second time.

Large and calloused hands encompass her own, and Obi-wan looks up to see Anakin has shifted himself closer into her vicinity.

"Obi-wan...you're hands are shaking," Anakin says, his voice much softer this time.

"Anakin..."

His name falls from her lips instinctively, but she can't trust herself to say anything further.

"I know you're scared Obi-wan, but it will all be..."

"Anakin," she warns.

The Jedi knight ploughs on regardless. "You feel something for me Obi-wan. I know you do," Anakin states.

"We can discuss this matter later!" she says in a last ditch attempt to avoid the topic. The effort is futile, she is well aware, Anakin will never let the matter go until he receives an answer which satisfies his pride, but it doesn't prevent her from doing so. Sacrilege or not, she refuses to give into Anakin's whims.

Obi-wan tries to snatch her hands away, only for Anakin to squeeze them in a vice grip. His hold is firm, but not crushing, however it drives the message home.

"No we will discuss this matter now! I know you Obi-wan, as soon as we escape here, you will dismiss the subject entirely! I swear you won't elude me this time Obi-wan! There's no running from this!" Anakin says heatedly.

Obi-wan is unable to keep the ire out of her own voice. "Do you even _hear_ yourself Anakin?"

Anakin ignores her reprimand. "I sensed some very _interesting_ things," Anakin says, his voice unmistakably smug.

She deems it wiser to remain silent. Let Anakin have his spiel. Let him see the futility of his actions, let him see she does not care for 'interesting things'. The sooner he finishes his rant the better. The sooner he finishes wasting both their times, they can hatch an escape plan.

Anakin's silhouette shifts closer. "Longing".

Obi-wan glances down. She can barely make out their co-joined hands in the darkness.

Anakin's hot breath trickles her left ear. "Desire".

She resists the urge to shudder.

" _Love_ ," he whispers.

In any other circumstance Obi-wan would have jerked away upon hearing such a profane word. However all Obi-wan feels is tired. So tired of games and manipulations. Weary of useless debating, and her own emotional turmoil.

She's _exhausted_.

With all cards on the sabacc table, she's got nothing to lose.

"Yes," she murmurs.

Anakin exhales sharply. "You admit that you..." he trails off, stunned.

" _Yes_ ". She can't quite bring herself to say the words outright. Sentimentality has never been her strong suit.

"...love me" he finishes, breathlessly.

"I do," she admits. Obi-wan's not quite sure if she could sink any lower.

Anakin's thumb traces the back of her hand. His flesh hand is warm against her bare skin, and she represses a shiver. His Force-ridden touch incites something within her. Something she refuses to acknowledge. It's bad enough she's admitted to heresy, no need to ruminate on her baser desires.

Anakin breaks the uneasy silence. "And I..."

Knowing he's about to say something that will inevitably damn them both, she cuts him off quickly.

"No, Anakin, Don't!"

"Don't what?" Anakin challenges.

"Say _anything,_ " she tells him sharply.

Anakin moves closer, and she leans away, chains clanging as she falls back onto her rear. His large hands release her own, only to cup her cheeks.

"Obi-wan, you don't need to be afraid, you are not alone in this," Anakin says gently.

"Anakin," she says, her voice half reproachful, and half pleading.

"What is happening between us is something wonderful," Anakin whispers.

Every word he says is another chink in her armour. Obi-wan's resolve is wavering, but she refuses to let herself be swayed.

She has stumbled along her path twice, taken off balance by affection for two men. Once, by an emboldened Duke of Mandalore during an interval of misguided youth, and now most recently by Anakin.

Anakin. Her comrade in arms. Her dearest friend. Her opposite, her equal.

And if she said the word, he would become the partner of her heart, and confirm a bond deeper than that of a comrade, or friend. That of a lover and a life-mate.

But, no matter how dearly she may long for it, she will not falter in her path for she is still a Jedi. Always has been, and always will be.

She brings her cuffed hands up, prying Anakin's hands away from her cheeks.

"What is happening between us is heresy, and can go no further," she says resolute.

Anakin immediately protests, grabbing her hands swiftly before she can pull them back. "Kriff this Obi-wan, I love..."

" _I know_ , and if you truly mean it, if you do _love_ me as you proclaim, if you respect me and what I stand for, you will let me go," she tells him solemnly.

Silence lingers between them once more. And Obi-wan wishes she could sense his Force aura, or read his facial expression clearly. Anything to indicate what Anakin may be thinking or feeling.

Anakin releases her hands, and his shackles clink as his silhouette shifts away from her.

"I...apologise Master for my...earlier conduct. I meant no disrespect," Anakin intones, his voice withdrawn, lifeless.

Obi-wan heart clenches at his detached tone and formality.

Anakin never addresses her formally, unless absolutely necessary, or he's upset with her for some reason or other. Anakin uses formality as a barrier.

She understands how deeply she has hurt him, but it can't be helped. She's done the right thing by dissuading him, and yet she feels as if she's missing something. Inexplicable guilt rises within her, and she ruthlessly shoves it back down.

"Apology accepted," she replies, equally formal.

 _Things are better this way_.

She's saving them both a great deal of trouble. Heresy can never be tolerated.

Personal feelings are trivial in the grand scheme of things, for they do not belong to themselves.

They are Jedi, committed in service to a greater cause, far greater than themselves.

Committed to the Order, to the Republic, to ending the war, to protecting life as a whole.

But never committed to themselves.

And she accepts it, and Anakin will too, in time.

For they are Jedi and they must never falter, lest they put innocent lives at risk.

Anakin. Her comrade in arms. Her dearest friend. Her opposite, her equal.

Never lover, nor life-mate.

For there is no love, only duty.


End file.
